So Far So Good
by dunnoifGraluorNalu
Summary: As the months progress, so does their love. / "Oh look, it's the C-cup girl." "I'M KIMURA KOHARU, YOU BAKA!" 【Aomine x OC】
1. January

**Well, this was supposed to be a fic for Aomine's birthday, but blehhhhh I didn't have the time to post this. Sorry for being unforgivably late. I didn't mean it, Mine-kun~  
**

**Anyway this will be an Aomine x OC fic, based off my oneshot 'Mistakes', but don't worry, you don't have to read it to know what's going on. This is sort of a prequel, I guess, and everything will be explained along the way, so fret not!**

**Please note that this will not be a long fic, probably spanning around 13 chapters. Seeing as to how much I currently have, I'd say each chapter won't exceed 1000 words. I doubt this fic can hit the 10,000 word mark, but enjoy! (I'm aiming for a short and simple style this time :P)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC**

* * *

_**[Prologue: January]**_

_It all begins, as most things do, with Satsuki._

* * *

As far as Aomine knows, Momoi isn't the most popular person.

It actually comes as a surprise when Aomine spots a girl with her one day, the unlikely pair standing at the secluded corner in class, deep in conversation.

The other girl, Aomine notes, has hair blazing like embers; a tangerine shade of orange so bright that it actually burns his eyes.

Titian hair, titian eyes, she stands slightly taller than Satsuki herself, yet her demeanour is utterly defenceless, as if she constantly needs someone by her side to protect her.

Aomine's eyes zoom into her chest, whereby after intense scrutiny, he deems a C-cup.

"Satsuki." he calls lazily out to his pink-haired friend, but Momoi doesn't seem to hear, focusing instead on smiling widely at her companion. The unlikely pair continue talking, as if they're the only two people in this world, even when Aomine's standing barely two feet away catching snippets of their conversation.

"Oi, Satsuki."

"_Jeez_."

He walks over and grabs Momoi by the sleeve, but the female simply tugs it off, scowling. "Dai-chan! I'm having a _conversation_."

"Che." comes his usual reply, but the orange-haired girl frowns a little, folding an arm over her very C-cup chest.

"Sat-chan and I are busy." she states a little impatiently, nothing like the vulnerable and weak girl he makes her out to be.

"I know Satsuki more than you ever will." he says rudely, because of all things he hadn't imagined starting a pointless argument with someone he didn't even know. "So fuck off."

She looks like she's going to give him a piece of her mind, but after a moment or two, simply bites her lips, fire burning in those cinnamon irises. She's probably murdering him in her mind now, not that Aomine cares.

"Not so tough now, are you? _Ginger_~" he taunts.

Scowling, she flashes him a middle Finger—something he had never expected, and from a girl, no less.

"Go to hell." she says sweetly, sickeningly, vindictively.

("I will." he almost retorts, but stops himself just in time.)

"Let's talk tomorrow, Sat-chan." she announces simply, before turning on her heels and leaving.

Staring after her disappearing figure, Aomine thinks vaguely, _Well, that was a nice first impression, _while Momoi rants and rages in the background. ("Look what you did, Dai-chan!")

Somehow he can't quite tear his eyes away.

* * *

'**tis inspired by life experience muahaha**

**Just something to get started on. I hope everyone enjoyed :P this is my very first OC, so I hope I didn't make her really horrible. **

**Do review, everyone! **

**(Word count: a pathetic 300+ words but this is the prologue so I promise it'll be longer next time!)**

**The last ever chap for KnB came out *sobs* why did they have to end it so soon. I can't believe this will be the last time I see my smexy GoM loves again, but there's always the anime if I'm patient. TuT It's okay, I still have my ships.**

**Thanks for reading everyone! The chapter 1 will be up soon!**


	2. February

***sobs* there's so much I need and want to apologise for, the first being: sorry for keeping everyone waiting, sorry for the really short chapter one, sorry for the not-as-short-but-still-kinda-sad-looking chapter two...**

**Yes, well. I suppose I can sum everything up in the following sentence and hopefully you guys won't bean me on the head with tomatoes and stuff.**

**"Here's the second chapter, my beloved readers T_T Tada! Enjoy!"**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

***cues hiding under bed***

* * *

_**Chapter 1: February**_

* * *

The next day he sees them again, Satsuki and the Middle-finger-C-cup girl, conversing in the hallways.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. Dai-chan can be rude at times." Momoi is saying apologetically.

Huffing, he stomps over, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulders.

"Oh look." the orange-head says, wispy plaits glittering in the light, "It's the rude basketball gorilla."

"Oh look." he retorts. "It's the C-cup girl."

Oops. That came out louder than he intended but _hell_, it was true. She's as C-cup as C-cups can get—_Aomine can tell._ The hallway suddenly quietens down as everyone stares at them, crickets chirping in the background.

One.

Two.

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! YOU _PERVERT_!"

All hell breaks loose as she brings her textbook down his head, whacking him again and again as a demonic fire burns in her eyes. She's not human, this orange-head. If Aomine wasn't of this build she probably would've already pummelled him into pulp where he stands.

"How did you know that—_I mean, I'M NOT C-CUP!_" she yells in a pathetic attempt to cover up.

He doesn't think she notices, but between the winces and grunts, he is snickering.

* * *

"Alright." Satsuki says as she lugs him by the ears into her classroom. "I've had enough of you and Ko-chan flirting and yelling around."

Aomine splutters. "We do not _flirt_—"

"I have to introduce you guys properly!" she huffs. She always did have a knack of taking things too seriously but what can Aomine do?

It's amazing how they're in middle school now, and he's a good head taller than she is but she can still boss him around the way she did when they were kids. (She was 6 centimetres taller than him then and every bit as overbearing, and when they were playing pirates she whacked him on the head for making her walk the plank and as punishment he had to piggyback her all the way home.)

He finds himself dragged ungracefully and plopped into a seat facing the orange-haired girl who has insulted him and beat him up.

"This is stupid," he begins but Momoi taps the table impatiently and says, "Let's get started, you two."

This is like some matchmaking thing, Aomine thinks in irritation. I didn't sign up for this.

"Dai-chan," Momoi says firmly, grabbing her childhood friend's cobalt hair and steering his face towards the orange-haired girl. "Meet Ko-chan."

"Basketball gorilla." the latter smirks. Evidently 'Ko-chan' isn't complying, and why shouldn't Aomine do the same?

"Middle-finger C-cup girl." Aomine returns. Momoi twitches.

"Enough with that! Dai-chan. Ko-chan. Dai-chan. Ko-chan." With each utter, Momoi points at them respectively, perhaps hoping furtively that they might ingrain the other's name into their minds with this silly routine. "_Dai-chan. K_—"

"Ko-chan, yes, we get it." Aomine interrupts impatiently. "Whatever. Can I go play basketball now? I have a one-on-one with Kise today."

"That's good!" Momoi claps her hands, like an instructor teaching toddlers 'ABC', "Next, Dai-chan, you can introduce yourself, then Ko-chan can do the same."

"What, is this some ice-breaking thing?" the tanned male furrows his eyebrows incredulously. This is starting to feel very stupid, not that it wasn't ten minutes ago.

Momoi smiles, a glittering, positively-_evil_ smile. Aomine swears to god she can be perfectly devilish sometimes. "_Precisely_." she says, fixating those sparkling eyes on him.

Aomine swallows. "Fine. Damn this." he fixes his eyes on 'Ko-chan', musters his best _'I didn't want to be here, look at me, I'm being threatened at knife-point to do this shit, don't judge me'_ voice, and says, "Aomine Daiki. My height was 175cm the last time I bothered to check. Born on 31th August, I'm a Virgo. I play basketball."

This goes like a normal introduction. Aomine simply repeats the things he said upon entering Teikou, when he was forced to introduce himself to his new class. It goes very well, as far as he can remember.

"Is that all, Dai-chan?" Momoi forces out, another glint in her eyes that Aomine can't quite decipher. This is as far as he goes, Aomine decides, he really can't find the motivation nor inclination to put in more effort after this.

And so it goes, the silent two-second battle of eyes and will, before Aomine, as always, gives up.

He scowls, and adds for the good measure, "I like teriyaki burgers."

Momoi seems more or less pleased with this humble addition. "That's nice, _Dai-chan_. Why don't you go next, Ko-chan?"

The orange-head eyes Aomine testily, and complies. "Kimura Koharu. I don't know my height, but I'm around 160cm I guess? My birthday is on 14th November, and I'm a Scorpio. I...read, and I like miso."

With this, she comes to a halting stop, and looks at Momoi, who smiles and says, "Go on, Ko-chan."

Sighing, Kimura forces out, "Nice to meet you, Aomine Daiki-kun."

Aomine nearly snorts at how the look on her face completely counters her words. Instead, he says, "Fine...whatever."

"This went well, Momoi-san." a placid voice interrupts whatever Aomine has to say.

"AAAAAAAGH! _TETSU_!"

"Hello, Aomine-kun." the phantom six man says calmly, sipping on his milkshake.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?!"

"Since Momoi-san dragged you in."

* * *

The next few days pass in relative silence; he sees no more of that orange-head than normal. It's as if that little ice-breaking session has amounted to nothing, but Aomine senses a lingering pair of eyes on his back whenever the two of them pass by in the hallways. It's not a nice feeling, but not stalker-like either, so Aomine has no idea how to feel about it.

Toleration? She hasn't made any move to befriend him, nor are they irritable nemesises so perhaps they've come to a stalemate; some sort of reluctant truce.

(That thought makes him laugh, because it just sounds like they've engaged in war with each other.)

It's on the second week when it happens, nearing the end of February where he is deep in practice one afternoon when he realises a pair of tangerine eyes following his every move across court.

He tosses a ball at her and deliberately misses to show that he's already long-noticed her unwarranted presence.

"What is it?" he says, a little rudely, but this is someone who dislikes him, so he sees no point in trying to be polite. Without waiting for her reply, he picks up another ball and shoots it, a high, _high_ arc that would've made Midorima proud. He has no qualms that it will enter, and he keeps his eyes focused in her.

She jumps a little, and tenses like a terrier which is acting tough; all teeth and claws but with no power to deal any damage whatsoever.

"I'm just here to say," she breathes in, hard, and clenches on to her bag a little more tightly. "I meant what I said, the other day."

Aomine's breath catches in his throat, and the basketball arches towards the hoop and falls in, thumping onto the ground and into the darkness. He doesn't bother to go after it.

"What did you say?" he asks.

She pauses, before holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Aomine Daiki-kun."

He stares at her outstretched palm, glancing down at the lines criss-crossing them. They're surprisingly rough-looking for a girl's; he'd expected them to be smooth and white like Satsuki's, but these fingers are slender and scarred, like a man working in the fields.

The light in her eyes falter for a moment, and she tries to retracts her arm hastily. Before she can though, Aomine reaches out and takes them into his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Kimura." he says, and tries not to smile.

* * *

He walks her home that day, and for the following days to come.

They don't really talk alot, but Aomine isn't a man of many words; he prefers action and impulse over well-measured conversations.

Still, it doesn't stop him from asking, "I thought you hated my guts."

Kimura Ko laughs out-loud, a merry tintinnabulation that sounds light and free to his ears. In the sun her ember hair blazes brighter than ever, as if a kitsune has curled around her head and sent it flaming.

"I do hate your guts." she grins, and it's a beautiful grin, enhanced tenfold by the brilliant sun and the spark in her eyes. "But you're not that bad a person. I can tell."

Aomine thinks back to those times where he has had the prickling feeling of being watched. "You stalker." he says, but his voice is teasing and not at all harsh.

"Rude."

They walk like this, Aomine and her, down the street to the crossroads without word. Unconsciously, the gap between them decrease, and by the time they pass the park their shoulders are touching. Kimura says nothing, and Aomine is too busy fiddling with his wallet to care.

No one can miss the light blush on her cheeks though. It's like the sun rays have lighted up her cheekbones along with her hair. She looks godly, almost ethereal, as her hair glimmers in the midday light, like a thousand diamonds polished anew.

Their companionable silence is broken by Aomine's offhanded comment, "So...about that middle finger the other day..."

Koharu blushes deeper, a deep crimson that looks befitting to a girl like her. He fights back the urge to touch her flaming cheeks, and instead, focuses and trampling the gravel under his feet, the uniform crackle resounding in his every footstep akin to the military one-two beat of his heart.

"A-are you still hung up over that?"

"No, but I'm just saying...that took guts." Aomine smiles, a real, genuine smile. This is the first time Koharu has ever seen him like this. It brings a certain warmness to his face, and she likes it.

_He looks so perfect like this._

"Thanks...I guess." she stammers.

(They don't talk for the rest of the way home, but when they part they are both smiling, and Aomine keeps the smile on until he sleeps that night.)

* * *

February 28th signifies the end of the month where it all began, but like some cliché soap opera (he really should stop watching those), Aomine thinks it's a start of a new friendship.

* * *

**_.:extra:._**

"PFTHAHAHA!" Kise won't stop laughing. Momoi giggles a little herself, as she watches her childhood friend walk her best friend home. She never thought she would enjoy matchmaking, but this is too perfect to be true.

It's like watching the soup opera live and even Kise is relishing in the utter chemistry.

"Aominecchi is really cute!" the blonde snickers, looking torn between laughing some more and peeing his pants. "Shush, Ki-chan!" Momoi places a finger to her lips. Kise bits down hard on his bag strap to keep from laughing, and nods.

"I agree with Kise-kun." Kuroko says, and the pair of them jump.

"Don't just appear, Tetsu-kun!"

"But Momoi-san, I was here all along."

Before any of them can counter that statement, from the bush pops a Midorima, lucky item and all. He coughs and adjusts his glasses, trying and failing miserably to look calm and dignified. It's a little hard to, with a sprig of leaves stuck on his head like a leafy extension of sorts.

"AH! MIDORIMACCHI! How long have all of you been here!?"

"I was merely passing by."

"In a bush?" Kise can be smart when he wants to. It's not really hard, it's just that Midorima is a little foolish sometimes. "Riiiight."

"Be quiet, all of you. Dai-chan is coming this way!"

_-And thus ends the (un)successful stalking session of the GoM save Murasakibara and Akashi-_

* * *

**I swear I be the queen of slow updates. Just...I hope I sorta satisfied everyone by a little. I won't lie by saying the next chapter will be up soon, because I haven't even started on it *cries* but I will, don't worry!**

**Meanwhile, I hope I kept everyone relatively in-character, but please feel free to criticise! (but not flame TAT)**

**Review, and thanks so much to all my readers! Just seeing that people appreciate this makes me all fuzzy inside *blushes***


	3. March

**Oh my goodness, it's been _ages_! I'm still alive guys! *flails*  
**

**I've been busy with loads of stuff but I'll try and crawl back to fanfiction. Meanwhile, have this little chapter while I'm at it XD **

**This has been lurking half-written in my docs for ages now but I rushed it out just in time (1500 words orz)! I might remove and re-upload it if I find any mistakes, but for now my biggest gripe is the pacing (OHHH T****HE PACING *flinches*) I feel that it's moving a little fast orz but what do you guys think?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_Chapter 2: March_**

* * *

_It's March when it starts, and March when they notice._

* * *

It's not much, just that Aomine is a lot closer to Kimura now.

They don't even realise it—in fact, it's Satsuki who does. Still, Satsuki may be the one who always figures everything out, but that doesn't mean she's always right.

"AHA!" she squeals one day, a loud, piecing squeal that would've made a shrew proud. "YOU'RE WITH KO-CHAN, AREN'T YOU?"

"Ah?" Aomine looks up from his usual position by the pilar Kimura's classroom. Waiting for her is always a hassle; her lessons ended so much later than his, and by the time she's out his legs feel nearly-dead. He waits for her anyway.

"DAI-CHAN IS WITH KO-CHAN! ISN'T THAT GR—"

"Shut _up_, Satsuki!" he clamps a hand over mouth as Kimura's classmates and teacher collectively look their way, miffed by the loud interruption. He drags her behind the pillar, and shakes her hard, hoping that some sense might diffuse into those dumb brains. "Don't spout nonsense, dammit!"

"I'm not with anyone! And I'm definitely, _definitely_," he casts a look at the classroom, at the tangerine-haired girl sitting all the way in the front row, copying notes diligently (she looks up, right at him, and smiles. he smiles, too, despite himself), "_definitely not_ with Kimura."

"Whatever you say, Dai-chan." smirks Satsuki, wriggling her eyebrows at him in that infuriatingly know-it-all way of hers that he happens to know said '_suuuuuure, right_'. "Whatever you say."

She darts off before he can make a retort, and Aomine sighs, pulling loose his tie and sinking back against the pillar. His eyes sweep the empty hall, from the overflowing bin at the left, all the way to her classroom, and back again.

Inside, Kimura furrows her eyebrows, bites her lip and struggles to solve whatever that was on her paper. She had a habit of twiddling with the pen when she couldn't get the answers she wanted, Aomine knew. Her hair falls to her face, a curtain of apricot, and she huffs, a soft, soft huff unheard by all but him.

The bell goes, and Aomine, as always, walks her home. But somehow, when they walk side by side, occasionally bumping into each other, Aomine has a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, like a heated ball of molten metal, and he can't seem to figure out why.

* * *

That day she lets him hold her hand. Her face is straight, even when he reaches out with the tentativeness of a panther exploring new territory.

It's insanely awkward at first. He touches her fingers, once, twice, retreating as soon as he came, and soundlessly, impassively, she reaches out instead, capturing his hands in her own.

He entwines their fingers together, eyes still fixed on the road, his fingers moving over her knuckles, fitting together like broken shards of glass reunited at last.

He daren't look at her—how on earth will her reaction to this be?

A little giggle escapes her throat, betraying her amusement, and, slightly nonplussed, Aomine glances at her.

She smiles with the intensity of a million stars, spreading across her face like daylight over earth.

And he smiles, too.

* * *

_(I will never let you go.)_

* * *

Their sudden relationship isn't announced, not even to the rest of the team.

To be honest, Aomine isn't even sure that they were going out until the day they actually are, but even then, they still view each other as close friends. Or good friends; best friends. Friends with benefits, even.

But never..._y'know_...

He likes them the way they are, when they're holding hands, talking, laughing, so he doesn't want that to change.

Because they've been friends for ages now, so it'll be weird if they started acting different.

If being a couple meant that he had to stop playing basketball to spend more time with her, if he had to be there at her every whim, and stay by her side doing couple-y things, he'd rather they stay this way instead.

He can't imagine dating Kimura. He can't imagine people talking behind their backs, saying things like "Hey, d'you know? Daiki and Kimura are an item."

After all, Kimura was Kimura.

* * *

But Satsuki says—and Satsuki says a lot of things—that friends didn't do what they did. When Aomine asked if friends waited for each other after classes she smacked him and said they did, but they didn't lurk around each other and crack their knuckles when other guys walk pass.

They didn't pull on each other's hair, flip each other's clothes and bump shoulders when they pass in the hallways.

And they definitely, said Satsuki, definitely didn't look at each other with sparkly goo-goo eyes, but when Aomine looked into the mirror all he saw was his own eyes, and he didn't understand.

Did this, didn't go that, did this, didn't do that—girls are complicated, and Satsuki even more so. Aomine doesn't want to remember what they should do, and what they shouldn't. Aomine can't find the inclination to care. He wants to do what he wants, say what he wants, and crack his knuckles whenever he liked.

* * *

He realises that a lot has changed since he's met that Middle-Finger-C-Cup girl, who lighted up his life the way her hair lighted the world.

He said that to Satsuki, subtly of course, because he didn't know how to put it without giving Satsuki the pleasure of knowing that their friendship is score one for her.

"Kimura is pretty great," Aomine had said, "isn't she?"

Satsuki just laughed, and told him he owed her one, since she had been the one to bring them together, and it's almost hilarious because 'Dai-chan, you were never one to make friends so easily.'

That's not true.

Alright it was. He took months and months to get Tetsu to talk to him, and he took nearly forever to finally acknowledge Kise's existence. Midorima's still dead to him, Murasakibara a weirdo, Akashi too scary to be considered friend-tier and Satsuki's been his friend since forever, so she didn't quite count.

What about Kimura?

* * *

_(To be honest, he's afraid to answer that question. He's afraid of knowing the answer, he's afraid of facing the truth. He's afraid to know that in these months what they have now is more than what they had before.)_

* * *

And so they continue their queer relationship.

They remain 'friends' even though it's totally not fine, in Satsuki's books, to hold hands while going home. Because 'friends' didn't do that.

They don't admit anything to anyone.

"What your relationship to Aomine Daiki?" the people in their classes always, _always_ ask, like incessant parrots preying on gossip. "What do you think of Kimura Koharu?"

He doesn't like them, doesn't like their relentless meddling. He doesn't like how they won't leave Kimura and him alone.

"Huh? We're just good friends." is what they always reply.

They remain 'just friends' even when Aomine feels like kissing her one day, and does exactly just that under the cherry tree in the park.

She's soft and cold, and tastes just like tangy oranges, an addictive, addictive flavour that he can't seem to get enough of.

Kimura doesn't seem to mind, so he continues kissing her all the way home.

Though he's pretty sure friends didn't sit on each other's laps during a movie, or feed each other, or fall asleep on the same bed (with clothes on, because their relationship is purely platonic), legs entwined with their breaths hot on each other's hair.

But she doesn't say anything, and in turn, he doesn't.

There really is nothing to say.

* * *

Until the day he feels the particular inclination to just...touch her.

So, in the middle of the bustling street at three in the afternoon, Aomine Daiki reaches out and gropes Kimura Koharu's very soft and very C-cup boobs.

Despite his initial belief that she probably wouldn't mind, she squeals loudly, to their spectators' amusement, covers her chest with her bag and whacks him repeatedly on the head with a book.

"_DAIKI!_"

* * *

"Dammit! That hurt, you idiot!"

"Serves you right for groping me like that!"

"What's wrong with groping you?"

"You don't randomly just grope your friends on the streets!"

"Why not? I mean...we've kissed before. (A lot of times, actually)"

"T...that's different."

"I don't get it. How's that different? We've kissed, and we've slept together before and—"

"DON'T PUT IT THAT WAY! IT SOUNDS LIKE WE'VE BEEN DOING INDECENT THINGS! "

He pauses, thinking, "...haven't we?"

She whacks him again.

"Ow...why can't I just grope you?" he persists. She's always said he was a pervert, with his Mai-chan and obsession with boobs, but he doesn't really see what's wrong.

"You just can't." her face turns pink. "It's different."

But why? He feels like asking, but doesn't. Instead, he just shrugs, and steals another look or two at her chest, before grabbing her arm.

"Let's go then."

...

"I'm confiscating your Mai-chan tonight."

* * *

And 'just friends', Aomine thinks, coming up with another addition to Satsuki's ridiculous list, definitely didn't give each other the privilege to confiscate their Mai-chan.

Then again, this is Kimura, so he doesn't really have any arguments.

* * *

_**.:extra:.**_

"Juuuuuuuuuuust get together already!" Momoi wails, wilting like a plant in dry wind.

"Fuck _off_, Satsuki."

* * *

**I'm a little miffed with the writing style (this is kinda my experiment XDXD) but I'll try! I'd really appreciate it if readers can tell me what you think XD and do drop by and review *hugs***

**Idk if I've mentioned but I'm super worried about whether the characters are in-character so if this all turns out okay you betcha I'll write loads more KnB stuff in the future ( but even if it doesn't, I'll just learn from my mistakes and write more KnB stuff anyway XD)**

**Please tell me if you find any problems, if you enjoyed it, if my characters were in-character—basically any sort of criticism! I'd appreciate it and loads and loads of thanks in advance!**

**And let me end this off with another (slightly false) reassurance: "I'll get the next chapter up soon!" Thanks for being patient with me guys!**


	4. April

**Hellooo everyone! Thanks so much for all your lovely reviews! :D Especially the criticism *happily nudges at katil03* I now know what to improve on, so thankkies thankkies! **

**I apologise for the inactiveness been a little caught up with life and recently I fell in love with SnK so expect stuff from that fandom soon~ As thanks for sticking with the pathetic me, I give you guys Chapter 3 (well, technically 4)! A sliiiightly longer update this time hehehe!**

**This chapter is mostly attempted fluff and interactions before the BIG CONFESSION (oops, spoilers)! Ah, well, I'm just an uncreative bozo, so you guys'll bear with me while I improve, right? :D **

**orz orz I checked this a couple of times, but there's s****imply so many times you can check your own stuffs without becoming completely blind to the most blatant of mistakes, so if you find any, please tell meh and I'll change it ASAP!**

**K enough from me! Shh~ it's about to start!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but mai OC!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_Chapter 3: April_**

* * *

The phone rings in the late night, ending the silence in his still house with all the merry spirit of a fucking bluegrass band. Aomine looks up from the homework that is no closer to getting itself done, and scowls.

"It's 11 in the damn night, who is this?!" he snaps, flicking his pen in the air as he answers the phone, pressing it to his ear so roughly that it hurts.

"Daiki." Kimura begins, her voice cracked and fuzzy over the crap line. Aomine feels his throat dry. "I know it's crazily late, and this is gonna sound stupid, but my assignment is due tomorrow and I'm desperate."

He pauses. "What assignment are you talking about?"

A bit of hesitance. Aomine can hear paper rustling in the background, and he focuses on the messy characters on his homework instead. "Art," Kimura admits, a blush almost evident in her voice—Aomine can _tell_.

The pen in his fingers clatters onto his workbook as Aomine mentally waves farewell to a night of studying. "I'm listening."

"How do you draw a guy?"

In that one second of silence, he tries not to laugh. Not particularly effective, because his snort still makes itself known."I'll be right there."

* * *

"What," Aomine says, pointing to that monstrosity on paper sitting atop Kimura's desk, "the hell is that?"

"It's a guy." says Kimura, looking close to tears. Her cheeks are on fire, flaming, flaming, and she won't look at him, settling her embarrassed gaze fixedly on the paper.

Despite Aomine's nonexistent drawing repertoire, even he can tell that the pathetic excuse of a man on Kimura's assignment paper is but a subpar effort. He's sure he can draw loads better than that. With his toe.

"You call that a guy? Look at his skinny arms—he's a french bean!"

And indeed he is. The frenchbean sits innocently on the paper, mauled by pencil lines and eraser marks that – though filled with concentration and dedication and Kimura's painful efforts – sadly, did nothing for him.

"Hey! I spent a lot of time on this!" she wails.

"And you're gonna spend a lot more time on him if you want him to stop looking like a princess. Heck, if he were any gayer, he'd be Kise in a dress."

She smacks him for that, but it doesn't hurt. It's like Satsuki all over again.

"Oi," he grumbles, standing up from his seat in a mock-attempt to leave, "I'm trying to help ya here, and you hit me?"

"NO!" a banshee cry escapes her, so sharp it would've made a shrew proud. She launches forward and clings on to him, orange tresses flying as she refuses to relinquish that grip on his arm.

He doesn't know whether to feel happy over the fact that there are distinctly C-cup _boobs_ pressed to his arms (god, she would smack him if she could read his mind) or pained over the lack of feeling beginning to creep up the entire length of his arms.

Shit, he really can't feel them now.

Struggling to kick-start his nerves once more, he manages a strangled, "I thought so."

* * *

After another hour spent agonising over the sad frenchbean's face, Aomine grabs the pencil and adds three impressive strands of hair on his head.

"Kimura," he says, exasperatedly, "you're a shitty artist. Shittiest of all the shitty artists on earth."

"Please, you're the one who habitually draws stickmen."

"I do not hapi...hebbi...habbitically—I do not always draw stickmen." Aomine's lips struggle to form those alien letters. Damn Kimura and her list of hard-to-pronounce words. "'Sides my stickmen are more man than your french bean'll ever be."

* * *

It's 1am, and they're no closer to finishing it.

God damn, it's just _art_. He _cannot_ understand why she's investing so much time in this when they both could be_ sleeping_. Kimura looks utterly absorbed in her damn assignment – and it's not even graded. _Trust _Kimura to care about things that don't even matter.

Sighing, he decides he will oblige her this one time, and if she ever asks for favours during ungodly hours of the night again, he swears he will hang up on her and come all way over just to rip her fucking paper and _make her **eat **it._

Aomine pinches the bridge of his nose when she shows him her latest result. "How's this, Daiki?"

It takes about less than one second to give her his complete and detailed analysis:

"Guys don't look like that."

Even if his artistic abilities only extend to stickmen and basketballs, he has seen enough sports magazines to properly identify the lacking in Ko's French bean. (And there's a lot lacking.)

"They're more..." he searches for a proper way to word it, waving his hands animatedly. "...you know..."

"Angular?" Ko helps, forever the voluntary dictionary.

"Not the word I was looking for. " grunts Aomine, "...defined. That's it."

"Guys are more defined. Like," Aomine reaches out, feeling a little braver than usual, and catches Ko's fingers, running them down the length of his arm. "Like this."

"Oh." she says, looking like she's searching really hard to find something to say, and he feels a stab of painful self-consciousness at the pit of his belly.

Her fingers brush his skin, pliant and curious, searching the crooks of his elbows and muscles with a gentleness that is mirrored in her eyes. He watches soundlessly as she bites her lips, the lightest of blushes colouring her cheeks.

It's strange how she only lets him see her like this.

Her hand has frozen on the insides of his forearm. It's like she doesn't know how to continue. Kimura blinks furiously, withdrawing her hand—and Aomine does not like the way air blows on his arm, replacing the receding warmth of her fingers.

(_Stay?_)

She coughs, and says, "Uh, okay. I know what to draw now." Turning away from him – no doubt to mask that idiotic blush on her face that is becoming more and more obvious – she picks up her pen and continues drawing.

The silence turns pointedly awkward.

Aomine sighs mentally, and tries to recall the feeling of her fingers again.

* * *

"YES! I'M DONE!"

"...Kimura, he looks like a freaking cabbage now..."

"Good enough for me!"

* * *

When they are finally, finally, _finally_ done, it's about 2 in the morning and Aomine's homework still sits alone at home, uncompleted. He makes a mental note to bribe Tetsu with popsicles to copy their literature homework (god, literature was a _bitch_) tomorrow.

Mutely, he watches as Kimura packs away the cabbage guy into her bag, slotting the paper into the file with a deft familiarity that has him thinking of her fingers on his arm again.

Swallowing, he starts, "So..."

"So." she echoes, a smile playing on her face. "Thanks. I owe you one."

_Pft_. "You owe me _three_." he counters with a roll of his eyes as he stretches on her sofa. "One for making me staying up late, another for neglecting my damn homework, and the last one for making me sit through the torture session that is watching you draw."

She makes a sound that is caught between a huff and a laugh. "I—Daiki, _what_."

He snorts, poking a toe at the legs of her coffee table as he watches her fiddle with a braid from the corner of his eye.

"Uh, anyways! It's really late now, so would you—"

A grin spreads across his face as he hops onto her bed, already making himself comfortable.

"—would you like to stay over for the n...DAIKI, GET _OFF_ MY BED!"

* * *

It takes her another 15 minutes to wrestle him off the bed (he won but she threatened to burn his porn), before kicking him into the toilet to shower and brush his teeth (his back hurts because she threw a fuckin' _clog_ at him). Much to his protest, she makes him take the sofa; and when he's out of the bath, the crappy thing has turned into a makeshift bed, complete with the sorriest excuse of a pillow he's ever seen in his life.

"Where's the blanket?" he demands, hopping onto the sofa to test its bounciness.

She tosses him one that is so thin it might has well have been a rag. Picking it up (wow, it doesn't even cover his toes), Aomine scowls.

"This place is shittier than a cheap highway motel."

The light switches off.

* * *

"Oi. This sofa is hard. What kind of sofa is hard? Did you get this shit from a thrift shop or something?"

A sigh. "No means no, Daiki. You're not coming on the bed with me."

"We could compromise!" he argues, turning around to try and find a nice spot on the sofa—because goddamnit, the thing feels like it's made from stone. "I won't take more than 30% of the bed!"

"You're already larger than half of my bed, Daiki."

"Fuck you, I shrink at night!"

"Daiki, shut _up_."

He waits for a couple of minutes more, before saying again, his voice ringing loud in the sleepy silence. "Kimura! My back hurts! It's cold! Don't be a fucking wuss and let me come over, dammit!"

He hears the telltale rustle of sheets being thrown back, and a furious '_gahhhhh_' of exasperation, before a light sound of padding footsteps echoes in the room, heading towards him.

Smirking – not that she could see in the dark – he lets her slip a socked foot up the sofa to angrily kick him.

Feigning ignorance, he asks, "What is it."

Her fingers find his arm in the dark, and she drags him up and towards the bed, muttering furiously with every step, "Stupid...whiny...childish..._idiot,_ _idiot, idiot_..." Kimura shoves him unceremoniously onto her bed, heaving the duvet over his head before slipping in from the other side.

A warm body meets his own.

"Don't you _dare_ do anything to me, or I'll rip your dick off."

He snorts.

"Heh. You caved in after all."

He feels the body beside him squirm, before she elbows him in the gut. "Go to _sleep_, Daiki."

* * *

As per usual, after looking all over the street, Momoi finds Kuroko standing outside Aomine's home.

"Found you, Tetsu-kun!"

"Good morning, Momoi-san." Kuroko replies, canting his head to greet the female, his glacial eyes softening in the morning sun.

It's been this way since they all became friends—practically habit now, to meet up outside Dai-chan's house and spend about 15 minutes looking for Tetsu-kun, before going in to wake their idiot of a friend up and heading off to school together.

Funny. It's always _been this way_, for ages and ages and she's so used to searching up and down for Tetsu-kun now, to the point that she's memorised the entire street. But today becomes the strangest of exceptions, because—

"_Ehhh_, Dai-chan's not home? Isn't he's normally still asleep at this time?"

"Ah, not today." Aomine-san says, frowning. "He was out since yesterday, that idiot son. And on a school night too—I don't know _what_ that boy was thinking..."

"Out since last night?" Momoi echoes, looking thoughtful. "Where to?"

"He was on the phone with a friend before he left...I could have _sworn _I heard a girl..."

"Aha!" the pink-head squeals, looking as if holy enlightenment has come and struck her on the head. Kuroko peers curiously at her, entirely used to her spontaneous nature by now. "Do you have an idea, Momoi-san?" he says, carefully.

"You betcha!" A look of pure _wickedness_ comes over her as Momoi replies, "Funnily, I didn't see Ko-chan on her way to school today..."

* * *

"Shh," Momoi grins when they've arrived, stopping outside the door to put a finger in her lips. "Ko-chan lives alone! I know she keeps her spare key under the doormat – she showed me when I came over – so we'll have no problem sneaking in!"

"Let's be super quiet, Tetsu-kun! We'll give them a nice surprise!"

* * *

It's a wreck inside.

It didn't even look like a tornado went through that mess— the entire place looked like a tornado got through it, then _swallowed it up and vomited it out before running everything over with a steamroller._

Momoi winces at the pile of ripped paper on the ground, and spies a pair of shoes on the floor that were definitely Dai-chan's—he was the only person she knew of that left his shoes overturned and socks scattered all over the place.

The pair navigate the room, moving over the woefully-dirty carpet that at one point in time must've been clean and happy _had Aomine not happened. _Momoi feels a prickle of fleeting sympathy for Ko.

"Come on now, Tetsu-kun!" she says, cheerfully, and Kuroko drops a shirt that is undoubtedly Dai-chan's, an amused tilt to his lips as he followed her.

Creeping towards the bed, Momoi takes a deep breath, and prepares a rousing wake-up-call for the pair of lovebirds snoozing away—

—and stops.

Kuroko frowns when she veers to a sudden halt in front of him, peering curiously over her shoulder to witness a scene that was glorious to behold.

Momoi smiles.

Momoi smiles like she is plotting world domination.

* * *

The pair on the bed are undoubtedly sound asleep. Aomine has a leg over Ko as he slumbers, face buried protectively into her hair as he cradles her. The action is reciprocated—Ko's arms are linked around his waist.

Jeez, he didn't even bother changing out of his jeans. Momoi notes appreciatively that he's lost the shirt, and at least the duvet has been cast on the ground, long forgotten.

"Ah, ah, _ahh_," she coos, beaming at Kuroko as she says, "They're too cute to disturb! Just _look_ at our Dai-chan, all grown up!"

Without making another sound, she tiptoes to the door, picks up her bag and links arms with the male, smiling sneakily. "Shh. Let's go, Tetsu-kun. We shan't wake them up."

"But Momoi-san," Kuroko frowns, studying the pair on the bed. "Koharu-san and Aomine-kun are going to be late."

The pink-head tuts, shaking her head. "No, no, no, Tetsu-kun. What do I always tell you?"

"...you actually don't tell me anything..."

Momoi pointedly ignores that, reaching over with pat Kuroko's shoulders merrily. "Only _I_ understand the ways of love, Tetsu-kun. It's too complicated for you. As I always say – and make it a point to remember that, 'kay? – leave the lovebirds to their own devices and all will be fine and dandy."

Hooking an arm across the bluenette's own, she drags him out.

"But—"

The door slams shut.

* * *

"WHAT THE FUCK. IT'S TEN—KIMURA, WAKE THE FUCK UP! WE'RE LATE!"

"W-what? What are you—GODDAMNIT DAIKI GET YOUR ARM OFF ME!"

* * *

_**.:extra:.**_

To no one's surprise, they are late. No one really understands why Momoi won't stop laughing, and much to Aomine's confusion, Kuroko keeps apologising. Kimura is the one everyone is staring at, crouched in a corner smacking her head on the wall for her ruined good-girl record.

She also got a C- for art.

Aomine facetables, but what can he say? They tried.

* * *

**_.:the proper omake (sorry guys ^_u_^ I couldn't resist):._**

"Goddamnit, Akashi won't stop giving me shit just because I'm late—Satsuki, for fuck's sake, what is so _funny_?"

Momoi stifles another bout of laughter with her fist as Kuroko gives Aomine the saddest look on earth.

"I'm sorry, Aomine-kun." he says, dutifully tragic. "I tried."

Aomine chokes on his burger, spitting out bits of chicken that Kuroko skilfully avoids. "You tried _what_."

Coughing, Momoi interjects, finally having stopped that damn laughing. Aomine scowls at her, flicking a fry onto her plate as he chews. "Where's Ko-chan, by the way? I didn't see her around."

Without even batting an eyelid, Aomine points to the remote corner of the threshold, where obvious sobbing could be heard. "She is right there, bashing her head on the wall because she finally ruined her good-girl record."

"Ah," the pinkette nods, looking suspiciously innocent as she folds her napkin and smiles. "Poor Ko-chan."

(In the background, the neglected rest of the Miracles lean forwards to attempt to join in the conversation. Midorima offers his lucky item for eavesdropping privileges. Muraskibara obviously can't be shitted, but he donates a licked chip. Akashi is still salty over Aomine's late-coming. Kise is giving out free hugs that no one seems to want. Aomine shoves a napkin into Kise's face and they all stop trying.)

* * *

**Heh.  
**

**Psst, if you guys want to chat (yes please, I get lonely TuT) or ask about stuffs, y'all can find me on tumblr: dunnoifgraluornalu and if anyone is interested, I can post a before/after picture of Ko's drawing for the fun of it LOL **

**God, if anyone wants to know why Aomine is being such a little kawaii-awkward boy-boy here, I'm just gonna say this is Teikou period, so he's not as teenagerly-awkward and angsty and arrogant. Yet. (PFFFT anyone notices how Aomine and awkward and angsty and arrogant all start with 'a'? XD)**

**HEHEHEHEHHEHEHHEH I tried ;w; and I apologise for my short chapters! I hope you guys enjoyed it a little at least? **

**A little moar play on style (does anyone like it?) and this chapter is mostly a build-up to the big confession *wriggles eyebrows* :3 so yeah yeah! **

**Please review, if you like, and give comments on how I can further improve this to you readers' likings! It would help loads (and you're doing this kinda for yourselves too~ to make this fic a better read) so don't be shy! I love criticism, no matter how harsh, and nice reviews are lovely too! Tell me what you liked about it, what you hated, fav lines, worst lines, fav moments, what you want to see in the next few chaps! Anythings!**

**Anyways, I'll try to get the next chapter up after my exams, so stay tuned, dearies~**

**btw here have a random headcanon-thing I thought up 10 seconds before posting: ****Did anyone notice that Ko keeps saying 'Daiki' in between her sentences when she talks to Aomine? :3 she really, really likes the sound of his name. (Hahahahahhahah *waves and flies away*)**


	5. May

**(Psst if anyone cares, I have a picture of Ko on my tumblr XD)**

**Anyways, hai and welcome to chapter 5 of SFSG. **

**Wahh guys, it's been a whole year and a little bit since this fic was published! Oh my my myyy~ Thank you _all_ for sticking by me since I'm a slow updater, and I hope my current and future chapters never disappoint! We're nearing 90 followers (and that's pretty impressive for a pathetic fic with zero plot and only 5 chapters to its name) and you can_not_ imagine how swamped with happiness I am right now because THANK YOU, ALL OF YOU WONDERFUL WONDERFUL DARLINGS *HUGS TIGHT* **

**And so, behold the chapter where everything kinda becomes perff (tho it_ might_ not stay so, *nudge nudge*) I can tell some of you guys have been waiting for this (kekeke *looks at mai beloved Swirly-chan and Riina-chaan and winks*) so I hope I didn't disappoint! **

**Shhh~ sit back and enjoy! (FYI when I use Ko/Daiki, it's the POV of Ko, but Kimura/Aomine is Aomine's POV)**

**Disclaimer: I own KnB not.**

* * *

_**Chapter 4: May**_

* * *

"What am I doing here." is all Ko huffs, suppressing another yawn and folding her arms around herself as she watches Daiki pick out the ninth pair of shoes to try on.

It's about 8 in the god damn morning, and on mornings like these – rainy mornings without a single hint of sun, moody and grey and achingly-sombre – she'd be asleep at home, nuzzled in thick blankets as the rain hammered against the windows outside. Ryouta-kun says it's practically a_ fact_ that rainy days are the best days to sleep in, and Ko agrees. Ko agrees with every fibre of her tired, Daiki-loathing soul.

But she's here. Here, as in about 3 stations away from her cozy home. Here, all wet and tired after running in the rain because _someone_ forgot an umbrella. Here, watching as water slips in from between betraying doors and windows to puddle _everywhere_, soaking her shoes and hair and already-wet socks. Here, waiting for Daiki to get a move on because he shops longer than a girl, god.

With an irritated pang of pain in her heart, Ko realises that _she. could. be. **sleeping**._

_Gah_, the things she does for Daiki and Sat-chan.

"How would I know?" Daiki drawls, inspecting the shoes quickly, before placing them back on the rack without further consideration. He trudges down the racks, eyes searching. Though he usually is a lackadaisical person, Ko figures that he can be a finicky piece of shit when it comes to basketball shoes. As much as she would appreciate it if he adopts the same attitude towards life in general, it cannot be said that she likes spending hours waiting Daiki mooch around in a store. On a rainy day.

"I'm here," Ko grouses, tightening her grip on her bag, "because Sat-chan is sick and couldn't come today, so she told me to help you pick a new pair of shoes. And I'm a helpful person."

Daiki holds up another pair to the light, trying to see if it was more blue than green. It wasn't. He drops those back on the rack, moving further down the row of shelves. "Ha. Joke of the fuckin' year."

Ko flushes, "I'd be more helpful if you bothered _listening_ to me!"

"I'd listen if you stopped talking crap!"

"All I said was that those shoes were a size too big. How is that crap?" she demands, pigtails flying as she wheels around to glare at the unappreciative bastard that was Aomine Daiki.

He waves a noncommittal hand. "Details. I'll grow into 'em! 'Sides, that was the only size they had left."

"Suit yourself!"

* * *

"What do you think?" Daiki asks, shoving his feet unceremoniously to her face. Ko blinks, looking away from the racing raindrops by the windows to inspect the umpteenth pair that he has tried on. It takes a couple of seconds for her amber irises to focus on them, and she twitches.

"Daiki, your feet stinks." is all she offers, rolling her eyes.

"Shut _up_, Kimura."

Huffing quietly with laughter, tangerine eyes flash as she considers, nibbling on her lower lips as she contemplates. A thoughtful look flits over her face, "Too bright."

He shrugs and pulls them off, dropping them back into the box and folding the crinkly tissue over them. Ko sighs, picking up her bag and making her way over. She reaches out to help him slide the box back under the shelf, only to trip heavily on the rest of the displays, tangling her shoes with the crumpled papers scattered on the carpeting. Raising her arms to break her fall only serves to make even more of a mess as she dips towards the ground, kicking the mirrors below askew and knocking the shoes down the shelves.

"KYAAAA!"

Almost on reflex, Daiki reaches out to steady her, snaking his arm around her to drag her back upright. She gasps slightly, before putting her arms around his neck, fitting like she belonged—fitting a lot more closer than he would have expected. She buries her face into his neck and inhales, shakily, still trembling under his touch.

It feels _right_, somehow.

"Jeez. You're fuckin' clumsy," he sighs, tightening his grip around her waist as he pulls her close. Ko's cheeks heat—like red sunsets and yellow sunrises swirling together, and Daiki realises that it's a sight he'd never thought to see. And a beautiful one, at that.

(Fuck, when did he become such a _sap_.)

Ko clears her throat – and by now he's figured out that it meant that she was slowly getting embarrassed – and unwinds her arms from around his neck, stepping backwards to try and pull away from him, letting space bleed between them in a way that was miserably unwelcome. Truth be told, he misses her touch as soon as it's gone. He always does.

And he lets go.

* * *

_"I know how you look at her~" Satsuki says, sing-song, as she camps by his table, textbook open on her lap. Her bag is tossed to the side of the room, its contents – books and clipboards and Akashi's precious data – strewn across the room, lying the destroyed calm of its dramatic woe. _

_"Ah?" Aomine looks up from his homework, twiddling his pen in the air as he thinks._

_"I **know**." is all the pinkette repeats, resting her head on the table as she pokes a ruler to his chest, mischievous._

_"The fuck **don't** you know, you creepy stalker?" he scoffs, swatting her hands away from him as he tries and fails to concentrate again. Damn it, Satsuki, he was **almost** in the mood._

_"I don't stalk, I gather information."_

_"Call it whatever ya want, but I don't appreciate you sticking your nose into my business."_

_"Ko-chan is my friend! Also, when are you gonna stop calling her Kimura?" Satsuki wails, sticking out her lip as she surveys the pathetic being that was her friend, "I thought you guys were wayyy past that now!"_

_Aomine scowls, choosing not to grace that airhead with an answer. "Get back to your studying," he snaps, shoving her face back down into the book._

_"Stop denying it, Dai-chan!" she says, bouncing back upright, only that all the traces of teasing have gone from her face. Disapproval clouds her eyes, edging into her voice with an undertone of fond exasperation. "How long do you plan to keep her waiting?"_

_"How long do you plan to keep **yourself** waiting?"_

_Here a bitter pain grafts itself into Aomine's skin, rips him apart outside-in, snapping the careless sutures holding him together, hiding himself_—_**always** hiding himself. He looks down, tracing lackadaisical strokes of pen with his eyes, wishing that life was every bit as easy as calculations and formulas and memorising dates. _

_"I don't know."_

* * *

It's still raining during lunch, and by then he can tell Kimura is thoroughly done with him and life in general. He ends up buying three different pairs because he couldn't decide between black, blue or blue-er. It's not really his fault, since Kimura refused to help him pick.

"Quit grumbling," he says, flicking a fry in her direction as she struggles to squish into the seat with his bags, muttering furious obscenities under her breath. "It ain't my fault you didn't wanna do shit."

She opens her mouth, another scathing retort at the ready, no doubt, and he takes the initiative to shove the remains of his third burger down her throat. She lets out a muffled wheeze, before rolling her eyes and chewing reluctantly.

"Teriyaki? Really?"

"Oi," he says, pointing the straw of his drink at her. "I don't question you and your goddamn miso-absorbing habits."

She makes an affronted harrumph. "I don't _absorb_ miso—"

The rest of lunch goes not-so-smoothly, with them having a mini-foodfight in the booth, much to the amusement and disgust of the waitresses. A couple of them wander too close to the war-zone, and emerge vandalised by ketchup. After few threats to kick them out into the rain, Kimura ends the fight by dumping the contents of her miso onto Aomine's lap.

"Don't get too cocky," he tells her, as he tries to salvage his jeans. "I'm let you off easy this time."

Kimura surveys the remains of their table, amusement rich in her eyes. It's a glorious sight to behold—the wrapper-strewn table and ketchup smears, that is. Satsuki would have cried.

"Let's go before they actually kick us out." she suggests, already winding her fingers around the carriers of his bag. Aomine shrugs, wiping the last of soup from his legs, before rising and stretching.

"Let's go then."

* * *

They spend about two minutes outside contemplating how to get to the station without being completely drenched. Not that Aomine really cares—his jeans were already wet, anyway.

"I can't believe you didn't bring an umbrella." she points out, her pigtails drooping as the rain showers onto them, seeping through her shirt and creeping into her socks. He watches as she wriggles uncomfortably, obviously ruffled by the water, and for a second he is reminded of a wet dog.

He stifles a snort, and shoots back. "I can't believe _you_ didn't bring one either."

She sighs, flicking back her hair as she attempts to shield her bag from the rain, hunching over them like a protective hen. Rolling his eyes, Aomine strips off his jacket and holds it out, blatantly refusing to look in her direction. He watches the fleeting raindrops instead, tracing how they darted from the sky like silver needles, quick and constant and utterly nimble.

"Here."

"Haaah?" Kimura blinks, slightly taken aback. Aomine sighs like he's talking to a kid – and a rude one at that – before saying, "Put this on. You don't have a jacket, do you?"

She looks at it a little skeptically, as if he'd gone and hidden a scorpion in it, and mutters, in slight disbelief, "Really?"

"Yes, you damned idiot." he grits out. "_Really_. D'you seriously need me to teach you how to wear a fuckin' jacket?"

She reaches for it, lips pursed in contemplation, before voicing, "We could share, you know?"

"We could, but we'd both end up half-wet so you might as well hurry up and take it." he grumbles, running a hand through his hair because _seriously_, was the idea of him having _manners_ something so foreign to Kimura? "I'm asking you to put on my jacket and not get pneumonia or something. Stop acting like I'm making you eat Satsuki alive."

She winces playfully at that, and chuckles lightly as she shimmies into his proffered jacket, poking her fingers through the too-large sleeves. She looks like a kid in his his clothes—but she looks good. Really, really _good_. There's a small blush on her face, gentle as sunset, when she mumbles, "Um, thanks."

Aomine subconsciously decides that if giving her his jacket was all it took to make her blush like this, then he's willing to freeze to death in the rain, again and again.

"...No problem. Besides, I – ah – still have to thank you," he mutters, drawing his gaze away from her face to look pointedly into the other direction, "for, uh, coming today. You didn't have to, but you did."

"That's okay," she says, quietly, skipping over so that she could look into his eyes again, her footsteps quick and nimble in the storm. Her face breaks into a small smile as she mumbles. "Because Daiki, I really, really—"

A deep breath, echoing gently in the rain.

"—really like you."

_Oh._

He knows. Aomine knows—he knows how she looks at him, lingering and wistful and sometimes a little exasperated; he knows how he makes her cry sometimes, when he's especially blunt; he knows how she likes to watch him play, likes to see him move across the court like he owned it, all the way down to the last grain of asphalt. He knows all the things that _matter_, though he'd like to that pretend he doesn't – at least, until he's got the courage to tell her that he likes her too; that he's liked her ever since she gave him that middle finger like it was worth her fiery heart; that he likes her so much sometimes that it hurt to breathe, and if only he's figured it out sooner.

If _only_.

They're kind-of both idiots, in this way. Aomine snorts, pulling her close, pinching her chin to tilt her head up and look into her incandescent eyes, soft and molten and perhaps a little afraid. Water pearls on her eyelashes, dipping down to rest on her cheeks, before breaking open like a raw wound, racing down the sides of her face. A pang sparks in his heart as he wishes hard that he can smother the fear out, and keep her safe forever because even now she still looks like she needs to be protected and kept away from the rough world.

At first, he thought she was loud. Uncouth and rude but turns out that's just a facade to keep him away. Inside, she is soft and free; like clouds, ever-moving, transient, flowing, beautiful. He runs a knuckle down the curves of her face, watching as she bites her lips, looking down—looking anywhere but at him.

"D-Daiki?" stammers Kimura, eyes widening as he hooks his arm around her, and it feels as meant-to-be as ever.

"Be quiet." he rumbles, leaning in close, feeling the breath leave her and caress his face.

"I—"

"Just shut up and let me kiss you."

All protests are quelled when he presses his mouth against hers. Breathes a kiss on her lips, gentle as a breeze, softer than any kiss they've ever shared. Aomine kisses her like he means it, like saying _I want you to understand, so please please **please** do_. He kisses her like her name is a whispered prayer and he is but a mere supplicant. He kisses her like he wishes she was his—only, he knows that she had always been his from the start.

All breath is stolen from him when they pull away, pilfered from his lungs by a fiery thief.

"It's a pity our first kiss wasn't like this. I would've liked it to be, though." Kimura murmurs, pressed against Aomine's neck.

A rumble of a laugh echoes in his chest.

"Che, if you wanted to be kissed in the rain so much, you should've said so, idiot. Plus, don't girls like to be kissed under sakura trees, like in those pansy-ass shoujo mangas?"

"Not _all_ girls!" she protests, burying her face deeper into the crook of his neck to hide the heated blush that was creeping across her cheeks and onto the tips of her ears. "_Aho_-mine!"

Aomine smirks, resting his face on the top of her burning hair. "If I kissed you again, would it be better?"

Kimura looks up—looks right into gunmetal eyes, blue like an azure dream, and smiles the cheekiest grin ever.

"Yes, _please_."

_Her wish is his command_.

"God, Ko, I love you."

She freezes. "Daiki, did you just call me—"

"What," he smirks, "did you like the sound of that?"

Her face flares.

"Heh," is all he says, dipping down to kiss her again. Their lips meet halfway, and she tangles her fingers into his cobalt hair, winding it round and round like the tangle of a spring breeze, so warm it's perfect.

Truth be told, he can get used to the taste of miso—

—as long as it was from Ko's lips, that is.

* * *

_**.:extra:.**_

"Momoicchi," Kise whines, tugging hard on Momoi's jacket. "When are we ever going to stop stalking them?"

The pinkette makes a sound that was very much betrayed. "Ki-chan," she wheedles, tightening her grip on a wild Kuroko to prevent him from sneaking off for another vanilla shake refill, "I thought we were _one united **fanclub**_! You too, Tetsu-kun!"

"But—" Kisa starts, only to be mercilessly interrupted by Momoi, who presses a finger to his lips. "Shhhhhh, Ki-chan! Don't ruin this for me, alright? It took me _so_ long to set this one up for those lovebirds. I had to pretend to be sick and everything."

Looking solemnly into his cup of shake, Kuroko voices painfully, "Why am I here."

"Because we made Kurokocchi an honorary member of the Aominecchi and Kocchi fanclub, that's why! You gotta be present at all our meetings, you know!" Kise sparkles, pointing the sundae spoon at the other male. "You're lucky! Not even Akashicchi, Midorimacchi or Murasakibaracchi get to be honorary members!"

"WAHHHHH SHUSH, BOTH OF YOU!" Momoi squeals, pouncing on the table like a disobedient cat, pressing her face onto the glass. "THEY'RE LEAVING TOGETHER!"

Without even blinking, Kuroko cringes as the glasses on the table collectively spill off, rolling down the table to slosh their contents all over the floor. He reaches out to salvage the remaining of his shake, blinking forlornly at its spilled contents, and exhales.

"Momoi-san. My. _Drink._"

In the booth behind, hidden by a shitty disguise, Midorima coughs.

* * *

**FYI if people forgot, Ko likes miso soup XD guh also, I'd like to be more inclusive of the GoM in the KoxDaiki antics, but I guess we'll see XD Akashi and Murasakibara'll be in the next omake, for sure!**

**Pssst IMPORTANT!**

**I made the biggest miscalculation on earth and now I realise that I have ONE _WHOLE_ fodder chapter for fluff XD so since you guys are the readers, _please do leave some comments on what you wanna see in the next chapter_ :D I'll try my best to cater to all your fluff wishes ;3 and write everyone's prompts and ideas, so go wild!**

**Ahaha anyways, sorry for all the dialogue *smiles sheepishly* If anyone cares, I can be found on tumblr under dunnoifGraluorNalu XD and do drop by to say hai~ I get lonely easily ;v; **

**Please review and feel free to drop some criticism X3 tell meh about what you liked/disliked about this, and your favourite scenes and whatnot hehe :D it's always great to know what I've been doing right and/or wrong! Once again, do drop some ideas/scenes for what you guys wanna see for the next fluff-fodder chapter (which will be 6!) Otherwise, I'll take uh..._artistic liberty_.**

**Tootles~!**


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